by Evan Currie
It figures, He supposed. Whoever is writing the script we’re living through can’t decide on a theme. Confusing hack writer.
He snorted, smiling despite himself.
“Are you ok, Mr. President?”
“Yes, Dan,” Strand assured his Secretary of Defense. “Just tired and starting to feel a little at odds. Show me data from the Dory again please.”
*****
San Francisco
“This must be what it felt like to walk through Hiroshima.”
“Belay that shit, sailor,” The Chief snarled. “I don’t want to hear it, and neither does anyone else.”
No matter how true it might be, Grady thought as he ignored the exchange. The Chief had it in hand, and he really didn’t want to get into that conversation anyway.
They were having to go around entire streets, and picking their way through the rubble was slow going. They should have been able to follow Columbus all the way to the Financial District, but instead the team was pulling one detour after another, often being forced to backtrack for blocks in order to move ahead just a few hundred more yards.
The damage was an honestly bizarre mix of flood and fire damage, the exact likes of which he’d never really seen before. The water had washed away long before his team landed, of course, it was San Francisco after all, there were few places for water to settle before it simply swept back out into the bay, drawing whatever it could along with it.
People will be dredging the bay here for decades, pulling up god knows what I’ll bet.
Some buildings had, somehow, managed to stay intact… at least to sight. He wasn’t sure he’d be willing to step anywhere within their collapsing range, let alone go inside any of them at the moment, but it did make for a bizarre and disjointed juxtaposition against the devastation around them when they passed by a largely intact building amid the rest.
It was clear, though, that there were survivors.
People were already responding, even though Grady was well aware that the Guard were still largely trapped well outside the cities as they struggled to clear roads through the damage for their trucks. Civilians were already shifting debris, looking for survivors… and bodies.
The team paused as they spotted a small group of survivors tearing at a pile of wreckage.
“Ell Tee?” The Chief asked.
Grady considered a moment, then nodded.
They had time.
“Alright, boys,” The Chief said, “Let’s give em a hand.”
Grady watched the team climbed up onto the debris and started helping the shellshocked survivors dig into the crap they were struggling with, calling in the location and number of survivors as he did.
The area was a warzone, of course, so he doubted the Guard could, or would, land one of their birds anywhere nearby. The potential for a FOD strike felt rather extreme to him, but that wasn’t his field in any case.
If nothing else, they’ll be able to drop supply packs and radios.
Digging out the section the survivors were checking took a few minutes, time he used to keep watch and get a better lay of the land with the help of a Global Hawk flying overhead. It wouldn’t let him plot a perfect course through the mess, some things weren’t as evident from above as they were at ground level, but it helped.
The Chief made his way back, face covered in ash and not looking too happy. Grady didn’t ask about what they’d dug out, he didn’t need to.
Survivors weren’t going to be common in this mess.
“Job done, for the moment Sir.”
“Good,” Grady nodded. “I’ve called in for a supply drop. The Guard will bring food, medical gear, and a responder team to help these folks get organized. We’re moving on. Get the men back.”
“Yes sir.”
Grady waited for the team to get back together, then laid out the map he’d marked up for them all to see.
“Grant is blocked by collapsed buildings, but if we drop a block and cut over to Keary, it looks like we might be able to get back onto Columbus past the blockage here,” He said, tracing out the map. “There’s fires in the area, but they’re mostly just smoldering, so we should be ok until we make it to the Financial District.”
He tapped the circle he’d drawn around that section. “Damage there looks… extensive. We’re going to have to get creative from there.”
Petty Officer Gerard chuckled. “We can do creative, Ell Tee.”
Grady smiled thinly, “We can at that. So far, I’m not seeing any sign of the potential threat we were sent to scout out, and given the situation here, I’m hopeful that holds. I know we all wouldn’t mind some action, but I’m thinking a gun fight isn’t what’s best for the survivors. If all we do is spot for the Guard helicopter response, I’m personally going to count that as a win.”
Everyone nodded emphatically.
“Alright, that said, keep your eyes open. We don’t usually get deployed to places where there’s no trouble, right?”
“Too damned right.” Seaman Jillian responded as he looked around. “Though I’m not sure we could tell trouble from the background here, Sir.”
“In this mess, I’ll be frank, if we see looters or anything like that, leave them be,” Grady said. “We don’t have time for that petty bullshit, and frankly there’s nothing much left to loot anyway. Anyone causing problems for survivors or the Guard response teams, we put them down. Easy if possible, but we put them down.”
The team nodded again, and Grady took a moment to let that sink in before he went on.
“We’re not cops, so forget the laws. Like I said, looters? I don’t give a shit. Jay walking, not my problem. We’re here to scout, officially speaking. Anything more than that, we’ll decide on the fly. Ok? Ok. Let’s move.”
*****
Paten Ellis sat heavily on the overturned chunk of cement, he thought it was part of the Embarcadero Center but honestly, he was just guessing as far as that went. One part of his mind was gibbering, having gone mad from the trauma, but he felt oddly disassociated from it as he sat there and looked out over the bay.
Normally, he was sure he couldn’t have seen the Ferry center from where he was sitting, but the wave had swept the waterfront cleaner than it had been in a lot of years.
What surprised him most was just how many people had somehow survived it.
There were dozens around him, though… he supposed there should be hundreds, if not thousands, so perhaps not as many people survived it as he was thinking.
It was all stuff in the background of his head, though, and he just sat there, staring, and ignoring it all, even the few who approached him to ask if he was alright.
He didn’t even notice the screaming at first, so focused on his thoughts… or lack thereof… was he.
He was startled back into the real world when a wet slapping sound came from right near him and he turned dully to find himself staring at a shredded body that had been thrown to the ground not twenty feet from where he was.
Paten stared for long seconds, processing what he was seeing through a dulled mind. He wasn’t sure how long exactly it took to register, but when it did, he finally jumped up and swore in shock.
“Well, aren’t you a slow one?”
Paten turned slowly, a chill running down his back as he heard the voice speaking from right behind him.
Paten Ellis started to scream, but the sound never even reached his throat.
*****
Chapter 20
Everglades
Major Kieran Burke leaned out the open door of the UH-1Y Venom helo, commonly called a Yankee, as the smoke curled up from the ground below, twisting in the downwash of the chopper’s rotors. He spotted his Marines first. They had marked the landing area with field expedient markers and were waiting for the resupply in accordance with their orders.
He was not happy to have lost three choppers already in this mess, four pilots, and apparently a couple Marines as well. It was, however, good to see that the rest had pulled
through and got back in contact and in the saddle, despite some rather extreme circumstances.
The chopper was settling in, about fifty feet off the ground, smoke from the Supercobras’ display of close air support now beat back by the rotor wash. He spotted the other three then, standing in a separate group from the Marines.
The civilian was immediately obvious, of course. He had a brief on her, right down to her grades and course load from the University direct. Good grades, interesting choice in courses, but nothing that really made her stand out.
Not as much as that lever action 30-06 does at the moment at least, He thought with some amused admiration of the old weapon.
Obsolete? Certainly. However, that didn’t mean the weapon was ineffective. In fact, against a lot of targets, he’d rather have that in his mitts than an M-4, without question. The standard issue carbine was a good weapon. He had no complaints there, as long as you understood what it was designed to do. But if you had to put a target down in two shots or less, the 5.56 NATO round could come up a little short sometimes.
That wasn’t the case with a good 30-06.
Still, she was of little import other than the fact that he’d have to ensure that she was properly debriefed before getting packed off back to Miami.
The other two, they were something else entirely.
The President had wanted a Brigadier on this flight because of their presence, even though the initial assignment had been given to a Captain.
Burke was a compromise, since there hadn’t been any Brigadiers immediately available deemed suitable for the job.
He’d been in the air when the presence of the second woman had been revealed, and the cursing from the brass had scorched the airwaves when her ‘rank’ had been revealed.
They didn’t know for sure if she was an actual Colonel, but either way it would have been preferred to outrank her on the ground in addition to outnumbering the pair. As it was, however, he was the man on the ground… or he would be in a few more seconds… and that meant it was in his lap.
Never let it be said that the Marines offer easy assignments. I wonder what the story really is?
He didn’t know if he bought the whole aliens story, though the brief was enough that he wasn’t going to cross it out even if his orders weren’t to keep an open mind on the subject. What it left him with, however, was a lot of questions and the hope that he was about to get some answers.
Burke dropped a boot onto the Yankee’s skid, swinging out of the interior as they dropped to within a few feet, and just casually stepped out as the bird reached a few inches off the ground. He ducked his head, put a hand on his helmet to keep it in place, and strolled off the skid and onto the soft ground of the Glades swamp.
“Major!”
“Sergeant,” He nodded to Kirth. “Heard things were a little hairy.”
“Yes Sir, we lost some friends.”
“Sorry to hear that, I’ve got teams heading out to the crash site now. They’ll get everyone found,” Burke said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Kit for your team is in the chopper. Gear up.”
“Thank you, sir, will do.” Kirth said, turning to the men. “You heard the Major. Go get your kit. On me in ten.”
The men chorused their acknowledgement, heading instantly for the chopper. Burke left them to it as he started walking across the field, Kirth falling in pace with him automatically.
“Talk to me, Sergeant,” He said. “Thoughts on these people?”
“Military, no question. Claim to be Marines,” Kirth said.
“You think they are?”
Kirth gestured idly. “They ain’t chair force, so I suppose we could do worse than claim them, Sir.”
Burke masked his amusement at that response, knowing it was probably the best approval the Sergeant would ever offer.
“Understood. Any advice?”
“The corporal is a straight shooter. Don’t know the Colonel well enough,” Kirth said. “She’s competent in a fight.”
“Very good, Sergeant. Go get properly kitted up yourself, I’ll see you shortly.”
“Sir!”
Kirth turned and left, leaving Burke to examine the trio just ahead of him a little closer. He focused on the tall woman in tactical gear, eyes roving the rank insignia he could pick out. None of it was anything he was familiar with, which was interesting.
Her kit was top tier, definitely not third world junk, which should mean that he’d know her insignia if it were in usage among any of the nations remaining. She was also tall, perhaps six feet or so, not entirely unusual but he supposed it was a good thing that he didn’t have height envy.
Not much envy, at least, he thought with amusement.
Then there were the weapons.
His gaze swept the rifle and carbine in each of their grips, noting the design oddities. There was no bolt, no moving action he could see at all. Without even an ejection port, he was reasonably certain that the weapons weren’t production gear. Still could be experimental kit, of course, but he wasn’t aware of any companies that had good caseless munitions at the moment and that was the only way he could think they’d run without ejection ports.
Major Burke came to a stop a dozen or so feet from the trio, their gaze sweeping him just as he’d examined them.
“Colonel… is it?” He asked softly.
The woman in tactical gear nodded, turning to fully face him.
“Colonel Manow,” She answered eyes dropping to his collar before flicking back to his face.
The man leaned in, whispering something that Burke didn’t catch, but it didn’t take much for him to figure out what it was when her expression cleared.
“Major, then?” She asked.
“Burke,” He nodded. “Major Kieran Burke, US Marines Corps.”
“Colonel Jan Manow, Realms Marines Corps.”
Burke nodded slowly. “So I’ve heard. Brass has some questions about that.”
“No doubt,” The Colonel said. “However, we have an issue to deal with first.”
“And that is?”
She looked to the burning tree line, eyes glittering with the reflection of the flames.
“We need to ensure that it’s dead,” She said. “Now while we have a chance.”
Burke wasn’t surprised by that statement, if he were honest about it. Orders from above were clear on that part, whatever the fuck had torn through the local civilians was to be ended as a priority. Anything else could wait, unless he decided it couldn’t, but if he did that, he’d better have a damn good reason.
“Fair enough. I’ve got a half platoon unloading to sweep the area, and the Gunrunners are standing by to provide close air support. You know the target, I presume?”
“I do.”
“Then instruct me,” Burke said simply.
The Colonel smiled thinly. “If you wish, Major. First lesson, we should get a view from the skies. Corporal?”
“Yes, Colonel?” The Asian man asked.
“Pull a scanner from the bag,” She ordered. “We’re going bug hunting.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Burke shifted as she walked up passed him, gesturing toward the Viper where it was settled on the ground behind him.
“Shall we, Major?”
*****
Jan Manow suppressed the urge to smile as she walked beside the local Marine Major, heading toward the old airfoil aircraft. The man was clearly uncomfortable with her presence, which she didn’t blame him for in all fairness, but he was holding up decently well.
The aircraft they were walking toward, well that was a different matter.
She’d read about airfoil craft like she was seeing, but had never had a particular death wish to actually ride in one, even assuming she’d been able to find one that was actually functioning back in the Realms. There were some mockups, but they all had proper repulsion lift systems, the foils being just for show.
I suppose it will be an experience, she thought as she suppressed any sign of nerves
just as firmly as she had her smile.
“Perhaps you could explain the nature of the enemy while we’re preparing for lift off…”
She glanced aside at him, looking down slightly at the man. The Major was not a tall man, a little more than a hundred and fifty centimeters compared to her own one eighty plus.
“I doubt you fully have the frame of reference required to understand it, but I will do my best,” She said after a few seconds thought.
“That would be appreciated,” Burke affirmed, “Though I have to admit to wondering about the context I would be missing?”
They reached the chopper, Burke stepping aside to gesture her in so Jan carefully climbed into the craft with some trepidation as she snuck a glance at the airfoil rotating overhead. She’d ridden drop ships, slammed into the battlefield at forty gees, and thought nothing of any of it… but Jan couldn’t quite keep a small frisson of fear from travelling along her spine.
She focused on the question to keep that fear from reaching her face.
“This is an uncontacted Earth Dimension,” She said tersely. “You have no idea how big the universe truly is. Suffice to say, parallel worlds… as well as alternate ones… exist, and that brings great wonders, and great horrors.”
Burke made a soft sound, not really indicating his thoughts on the matter at all.
“What’s the difference?” He asked.
“What?”
“Between parallel worlds and alternate worlds? What’s the difference?”
“Ah,” She said, tilting her head slightly as she shifted to allow Corporal Wachun to climb into the aircraft, fiddling with the scanner she had told him to break out, before she looked back to the Major. “Parallel worlds run in close formation, generally with minor differences that may or may not expand over time. Alternate worlds may have once been parallel but changed well beyond recognition by the time they were cataloged. Imagine the difference between a world where World War…”
She paused, blinking as she wondered which one would have more impact to the locals.
The Corporal seemed to catch her hesitation and looked up, “Two, Ma’am.”
